Pieces of Me
Content note: This piece includes references to human trafficking, trauma, and secondary trauma from frontline advocacy work. Please read with care.
And I’m afraid that I have no more pieces of myself left. Every day I use what energy remains to pick up those pieces. But sometimes they’re scattered too far. With the woman trying to get back to her home in Ohio but stuck in California with no shelter available to take her forcing her to return to her trafficker. With the woman who had a four-hour window to escape and pick up her five-year old son, but had no gas in her car. And then she gets a text from her trafficker that he is coming back early. With the girl in her early 20s who escaped her trafficker, and she is yet unable to carry the burden of facing him in court resulting in him out and free to sell other girls’ bodies like he did to her.
Of course there are success stories. Of the girl who called us while in the back seat of the car with her trafficker but was able to escape when they stopped at a restaurant. The man that escaped his employer who was labor trafficking him and reunited with his fiancé.
But what about two months or two years from now? Are they still safe? Are they healing from their trauma?
Most of the time, we’ll never know.
We are taught to separate who we are from the name we give to callers. To leave that name and persona at the desk when we walk out for the day.
But I’m afraid that each and every one of us has failed at that. We spend minutes and hours entering into our caller’s situation, fear, and ultimately their outcome. When you are listening to the crying and screaming of someone who is calling you and out of options, there is no separation.
So when I’m asked how do I do it? Is it worth it? I give an immediate yes. It’s always worth it. Maybe you’re unable to preserve yourself when entering into another’s brokenness. You might have to break with them too. We do it hoping that those pieces torn out of us and spread across hundreds and thousands of moments will provide hope, some relief, and possibly a solution for someone else.
And if just one person finds that rest, it’s all worth it.